


South Park Institute for Mental Health

by Omg_Chloe_Answer_Me_Whoa



Category: South Park
Genre: Gen, Pray for the souls at the Institution, asylum AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omg_Chloe_Answer_Me_Whoa/pseuds/Omg_Chloe_Answer_Me_Whoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Butters Stotch is in a Insane Asylum for a crime he doesn't even remember committing, and on top of crippling confusion of his situation, he must now also learn to live along side the others in the asylum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a simple AU me and my friends came up with, and now, it's a full-blown story.
> 
> Warning(?): This does go into some dark themes and implications between certain characters later on, but nothing too graphic that, to me, warrants an actual rating. However, if I have misjudged this, please notify me as soon as possible, and I'll fix it as fast as I can.

"We're here, prisoner."

The sudden voice makes the blond's head look up from the bus floor, and he sees that the bus was quickly heading toward a red-bricked building that laid just on the horizon.

Said blonde's name was Butters Stotch, and at the moment, he was feeling anxiety nip at the very core of his soul.

Not only had this been the first time he'd ever been in actual trouble where the law had to get involved, but the most confusing part for him personally was that he had no recollection of committing the crime that everyone seemed to be accusing him of doing. Even despite this, Butters said little to nothing in his own defense; mostly due to the fact there was really no evidence that would prove he was innocent and telling the truth about it. Plus, he just was never the type of person to rock the boat or complain about how things worked out, and the blonde had a feeling that, for this particular situation, keeping quiet was the best option for him. However, for some odd reason, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he felt like all of this was a mistake. Like he shouldn't be the one in trouble at all, and that the real culprit was still roaming free.

Butters wanted to believe these notions to be true...but the answers he so desperately wanted were just out of his mental reach.

It was then that bus came to a slow stop in front of the red-bricked building Butters had spotted earlier, and from its entrance, two figures in unidentifiable uniforms began to approach the bus. The blonde tried to get better look at the two, but was then brought to his feet by the police on board before he got the chance. The officer then escorted him down the isles of seats (which was more of a forceful drag), and once they were at the door, the two figures in uniforms were seeing waiting for them just on the other side.

The smudged doors of the vehicle then swung open and it was then that Butters got his first clear view of the two strangers.

Both of their uniforms were a beige color that nearly blended in with their pale skin, and the blue patches that were sewn onto their sleeves read: "South Park Institute for Mental Health" in bold, red letters. As for the guards themselves; Butters took notice that, while both shared the same raven-black hair and looked somewhere in their mid to late twenties, the guard on the left was not only shorter, but had a more rounded, almost child-like facial structure than the man standing next to him on his right.

He briefly wondered if they could be related, but was interrupted by the police officer who brought him to the door forcibly leading him down the bus steps.

"Here's your new patient: Leopold Butters Stotch." The officer says in a monotone voice once they step onto the ground. The taller then takes a key from his pocket, and in one continuous motion, unlocked the handcuffs on Butters wrists before addressing the two security guards. "He's court ordered to be monitored at all times when not in his cell. This means that-"

"No disrespect officer," The taller guard suddenly interjects as he steps forward to gently take Butters right arm while the shorter stepped on to take his left. "But I've already been informed of the procedures, and proper accommodations have been made. I was the one you told them to over the phone yesterday, actually, so thank you for transporting him here promptly. We can take him from here."

The officer seemed a bit caught off by this, but nodded in response nonetheless.

After the man had retreated to the bus and it began to roll off down the road, the taller let out a scoff. "That guy's unbelievable. Always talking to me like I don't know how to do my job." The raven haired male just shook his head before he and the shorter guard turned with the other still in their grasp, and began to walk Butters up the stretch of concrete that lead to the buildings entrance. Silence then fell over the group, and it wasn't until they were half-way to the door that the tall continued speaking. "You know Butters… I think you're the first patient I actually walked in here."

"...I am?" Butter asks in confusion; it being the first time he spoke during his whole trip there.

"All he means is that you're the first one whose been able to physically move their legs to get to the door when first arriving here." The shorter explained. "Usually the criminally insane patients that are sent here are too drugged up to even form a coherent sentence; let alone walk."

"I see." The blonde mutters out. "But… what did you mean by the criminally insane part?"

"Well, the fact of the matter is, South Park simply isn't that big of a place." The taller replies. "That means they don't have a lot of funding to pay for places like this; let alone get two buildings that are for, in the mayor's opinion, the same basic thing. So, because of this, we get both criminally insane as well as those who are just a bit...well, for lack of a better term, mentally unstable."

"But… wouldn't that be dangerous?"

"Maybe, but we seem to be keeping things under control so far." The taller says with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. He then took a short pause before saying, "Oh, and by the way, I have to give you this Institution-required speech when we get to your room, so please bare with me on that."

Butters merely nods at this, and moments after he does, they reach the entrance.

The automatic doors swing open, and when the three enter, the blonde is momentarily blinded by a sea of sterile, shining white.

Once his vision adjusts, he saw that, indeed, the entire entrance area of the Institution was snow-like white. Everything from the walls to the tiled floor was this color with no deviation. That is, of course, excluding the brown-colored secretaries desk that sat in the middle of the room like the first stroke of paint on a blank canvas - no one actually sitting there at the moment, however.

The blonde briefly wondered how people could stand such intense whiteness for twenty-four hours a day, everyday.

The two guards then escort the blonde through the, what he presumed to be, check-in area, and lead him through oak double-doors that were partially hidden behind the front desk. On the other side of them was a long, white colored hallway with multiple doorways on each side. The two then walk Butters halfway down the hall before coming to a cross-point; a left-sided doorframe having a red painted square on the top of it and a right-sided doorframe with a blue painted square on the top of it.

The guards lead the blonde through the doorframe with the red square.

Past the door, Butters sees a grey hallway with rooms lining both sides. Each of the doors seemed to be made of heavy metal, and lacked a window to view inside. Of course, wasn't until the third or fourth (the blonde honestly wasn't keeping that good a count of the numbers) door to their right that they stopped, and when they did, the taller guard pulls out a key before opening up the door.

The inside was a muted, grey color with no windows, and a single bed that sat in the right corner with one green sheet plus a set of light-green clothes set on it.

"This is your room." The taller said. "Step inside, and face us."

The blonde quickly does as he says, and once he had turned to face the two once more, the taller begins the speech he had briefly mentioned earlier.

"Butters, let me be the first to welcome you to South Park's Institute of Mental Health. I am officer Stanley Marsh, and this is my fell day-hours officer, Kevin Stooley." Stan says as he gestures over to the shorter. "We are here to not only keep you safe, but to keep all residents here safe as well. This means that if you try to harm yourself or anyone else, we will be forced to take action. First offense is a twenty-four hour lockdown in your room, next is a week of solitary confinement in the padded cell at the end of the hall with a straight jacket, and lastly, your third leads to an automatic discharge from our facility - which, since your court ordered to be here, would mean you'd be sent off to prison. However, if you follow the rules we have in place here, they'll be nothing to fear. As for your clothing, you'll be required to change into the patient uniform on the bed behind you, and hand over all and any personal possessions to us."

Kevin then waited for just a moment to make sure Stan didn't have anything else to add, and then speaks as well. "You'll also be seeing the therapist here for a second evaluation this evening. But before we go notify him you're here, we're requiring you remove your shoelaces, any belts on your person, and all other items that could be used to inflict self harm."

Butters was about to ask why this was, but the meaning what Kevin said finally registered in his brain, and he did what he said without question.

After a few moments, the blonde had slipped out his shoelaces, and taken off his belt as instructed. He then obediently hands them over to the waiting guards, and they give a slight nod once they take them before exiting his room - the door shutting and locking automatically with a noticeable click. Once they left, blonde then lets out a heavy sigh before trudging over to his bed, and changes into the clothes waiting for him.

The garments themselves reminded him faintly of scrubs for a doctor or nurse, and the shoes they provided looked strikingly similar to ordinary house-slippers.

Once he had them on, however, they proved to be quite uncomfortable.

While the material looked silky, the fabric actually turned out to be very rough, and the shoes fit uncomfortably tight on the his feet. Although, the blonde subconsciously knew there'd be no point in complaining about having to wear the uniform, so he just sat down on the edge of the bed and folded up his street clothes before placing them on his lap with his shoes on top of them.

Silence then began to invade the small space, but before it could really start to mess with the blonde's thoughts, Stan and Kevin were once again opening up his door.

"Alright Butters, the doctor's ready for you." Stan informed.

The blonde nods and quickly stands before the two waiting guards take him gently by the arms - Stan taking the items in Butters hands and holding them to his side as they walked. The three head out of the room, walk back into the hall they had come down to get to the blonde's room, and continue down the opposite direction of the front area.

It was at the end that they come to another cross-section of the hall, but this time, Stand and Kevin turn left; the three coming face-to-face with another oak door.

"Inside is where you'll be having your second assessment." Kevin explains. "You will be going in alone for doctor-patient confidentiality reasons, but make no mistake. we'll both be right out here in case something goes wrong." Butters couldn't help but guess that was code for "in case you snap", but decided not to call him on it because he was certain of the answer.

The blond then walks over to the door, and ignores the stares from Kevin and Stan as he slowly reaches out to the doorknob and turning it.

The room Butters saw was, thankfully, not painted that blinding white like most of the building was.

It's walls were, instead, painted a muted tan color, and was accented rather nicely with a light-red carpet. As for the furniture, there was a desk with tons of books and other miscellaneous items stacked on it in the back corner, and in the foreground of the room were two identical padded chairs - one of which held a redheaded man, who looked to be either in his late teens or early twenties, as he looked over charts on a clipboard.

Butters stays in the doorway, wondering if he should make some small noise to have his presence known to the other, but finds it unnecessary when the other suddenly looks up and notices him.

"Ah, you must be our new patient; Butters Stotch." The redhead says with a polite smile as the blonde continues to linger uncomfortably outside the room. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Kyle Broflovski, one of the leading therapists here. Please, come in, shut the door, and have a seat in the chair next to mine."

Butters quickly does as he's told, and once he's seated, Kyle speaks once more.

"So, I see here on your chart that you were able to be sent here without having to be sedated first." The redhead observes as he briefly glancig to the chart in his hands before focusing his green eyes on Butters. "That must've been nice; to be brought here while still coherent."

"I-It was, sir." The blonde says just above a whisper, looking down submissively.

Kyle smiles slightly at this before saying, "Y'know Butters, you don't have to be so nervous around me. I'm here to provide a safe, comfortable environment for patients to heal in. Now, I am going to ask a few questions to determine if you're eligible to participate in our next group therapy session, so please, feel free to make yourself comfortable and we'll start whenever you're." The redhead then gives a short pause as Butters shifts slightly in his seat, and after a moment, gives a nod to indicate it was time. Kyle simply nods back, and positions his pin on the paper. "Alright, let's start get started. Do you know your full, legal name? If so, please state it in it's entirety."

"Yes, and it's Leopold Butters Stotch."

Kyle then quickly scribbles something down on the paper clipped to his clipboard before heading into the next question. The next few minutes were then spent with Butters answering simple questions, like "Do you remember your date of birth?" and "Have you ever been in a facility like this before?". It was all relatively painless, but then as time went on, the redhead suddenly goes into a more complicated area of questions for the other.

"Do you recall the events that lead to your being here?" Kyle asks.

The blonde hesitates a moment, and after several minutes of serious consideration, gives his answer. "...I-I truly don't, doctor."

Interest arose in Kyle's green eyes, and Butters knew the session was about to take a drastic turn. "Do you perhaps recall any related events that could help lead your memory to the event in question?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"Interesting." Kyle says as he leans forward slightly with his hands folded. "Then our goal is to find out what exactly is blocking those memories." The redhead takes a short pause before asking; "Have you simply not come to terms with what you've done mentally, perhaps?"

"To be honest...I-I just have no idea." Butters admits. "That whole day's kind of a blank, actually. I-I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize." Kyle reassures. "So, if I understand correctly, you can't remember anything from the day you were arrested?"

"No, no, I can remember that part of it just fine." The blonde explains. "But...I just can't remember doing what I was accused of..."

"I see." Kyle says as he quickly jots down this newly acquired information. "Well, believe it or not, that's actually common. I often find the best solution for this type of selective amnesia is to talk about what one does remember out loud; sort of as a way to kick-start memory. So please, if you're okay with it, tell me all of what you can recall, and feel free to stop at your choosing."

The blonde nods in conformation, and takes a lengthy pause before taking in a deep breath and starting his story. "Well...the first thing I remember about that day is waking up spread out on the ground of my apartment floor." Butters explains; his voice growing slightly softer and softer as the memory of what transpired played in his mind. "I-I remember having this splitting headache the more I came into consciousness, and it would only get worse every time I tried to get up. Of course, when I finally did manage to get on my feet after what seemed like years, I noticed two things: I was covered in what I later discovered was blood, and that I was clutching a baseball bat which had a coated of the same red substance. Although, before I had any real time to process what was going on, these policemen suddenly kicked in my door, and slapped handcuffs on me - saying I was under arrest for...for murder."

"Murder?" Kyle asks; looking slightly surprised that it had been the others answer. "That's a pretty serious accusation. If you don't mind me asking, did they tell you who it was or why you would have done it?"

"It's fine, a-and they did tell me who it was, but left it at that." Butters explains as he fingers begin to fidget slightly due to his mental stress. "The person who they say I had murdered was….was..." The blonde then felt a sharp spike of anxiety take hold over him, and he was forced to take a couple of deep breaths in order to calm himself. The shorter then closed his eyes tight once his composure was regained, and clenched his fists before saying the words that he hadn't dared utter since arrest. "...m-my mother."

Several minutes of silence pass after those words left Butters mouth, and while Kyle's expression held no judgment, the blonde was almost positive the other thought he was now a horrible, unruly person.

"...I-I…..I don't even remember doing it. I-I honestly don't" Butters admits; tear suddenly forming in his baby-blue eyes. "The last time I remember speaking with her, s-she and my father were coming home from their vacation somewhere in Chicago, and just the thought…that I had hurt her…." The blonde was then cut off by a sudden catch in his throat, and he quickly clears it before saying through now falling tears, "S-Sorry I'm cryin' like this...I-I know I'm supposed to be talkin'...

"It's fine, Butters, really." Kyle responds; his expression and voice being as professional as he can make them. "This kind of reaction is good. Raw emotions like the one you're feeling sometimes help to unlock stored away memories, and allow you to recall previously repressed events. Oh, and I have some tissues on my desk if you are in need of them."

"Thanks, but...I-I'm fine. Honestly." Butters says as he wipes tears that had slipped out onto his cheeks; waiting till his sobbing came to a stop before he spoke again. "As for the rest of my story…there's really nothing much else to tell. I was taken to court with my case, my lawyer argued I was unqualified for jail because I must have some sort of mental illness not to recall doing such a horrific act, and the judge sentenced me to come here until my illness had been discovered and properly treated. And..that's pretty much it."

"You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright then." Kyle says as he writes down the last of the information Butters had given him before looking back up at him. "Thank you, Butters, for finding the strength to share that with me. And while I'm still required to do some reviews of these notes I took, I believe you'll be eligible for our next session of group therapy."

"R-Really?" The blonde asks in a bit of surprise. "W-Well...thank you so much, doctor."

"No problem." Kyle responds with a kind smile. "Now, if you'll just step outside, the guards will escort you back to your room."

The blonde then gives a nod, and stands before making his way to the door. When he steps back through, he sees that the guards had yet to move from the spot they had gotten into when the group had first arrived (although, he noticed Stan was no longer held the items he had handed over earlier, so he assumed that at least the taller had moved while he was talking to Kyle), and in seconds, had Butters by the arms once more.

"So, what'd Kyle say about you going to group therapy?" Stan casually asks as they begin the walk back to the others room.

"He said he still had to review some things, but I'd probably be able to attend the next group therapy session."

"Really?" Stan asks. "That next session is tomorrow afternoon, actually. I'm surprised Kyle passed you so quickly.

"Yeah; it's incredible, Butters." Kevin says with a wide smile. "Usually criminally insane patients don't get to go to group therapy when they first arrive here; let alone on their first day. You should be proud." These words makes Butters mouth curl upward into the smallest of smiles, and he was about to say something back to the two when Stan suddenly speaks up.

"Kenny, what are you doing out here? Don't you have a therapy session with Kyle today?"

The blonde then looks straight ahead, and in the middle of the hall, he sees a boy about his age with nearly lemon-yellow hair standing statue-still just mere feet from where the three were. Of course, the thing that drew the most attention was dark-rimmed, emotionless sea-blue eyes that seemed to just peer into the very soul of the person or thing they looked at. And in this case, that person happened to be Butters.

The shorter felt a chill run up his spine as the other continually stared silently in his direction, but did his best to ignore it.

"Um...h-hi there." Butters speaks up sheepishly. "My name is Butters, and I-I'm sort of the new guy. It's nice to meet you...Kenny, was it?"

The blonde waited for the other to respond, but got none from the other.

Just the same blank, frozen-seeming stare.

"Don't feel bad, Butters, he's always like this." Stan speaks up. "I'm not entirely sure of all the details, but all I do know is that he normally refuses to talk to anyone but the therapists here. The rest of us just get a blank stare." The guard then paused for a brief moment, as if remembering something, before looking to the shorter black-haired male beside Butters. "Kevin, take Butters back to his room. I need to get Kenny down to Kyle's office for his session before he's late." The raven-haired male then walks over to the lingering other, and puts a calming hand on his shoulder.

The other then began to talk in a calming tone to the other, but before Butters could really make-out what Stan was saying, him and Kevin had stepped through the red-squared doorway.

"...do you think he'll be okay? The boy who just stared at me, I mean."

"Kenny?" Kevin asked as he walked the other toward the hall. "Oh, I'm sure he'll get better eventually. After all, that's why people like Kyle are here; to help him get better. I wouldn't let it worry you too much."

The blonde wanted to ask more, like what exactly what Kenny's condition was, but by the time he finally decided he was going to ask, they had arrived back at his cell. Kevin then unlocked and opened the door, and Butters obediently goes in - the door closing behind him with the same click as soon as he had fully entered.

It was at that moment the true gravity of his situation hit Butters.

He was now truly alone; with nothing but his thoughts till sunrise.p>

Seeing as how he didn't even have a window to stare out of, Butters then decides the best option was to just get some rest. So, he then trudges over to his bed, and curls up under the thin sheet before closing his eyes - letting the remainder of the unfallen tears from his earlier emotional break-down run freely down his cheeks as his unsettled mind slowly begins to wander off into the hazy world of sleep.

-Meanwhile-

"Hey Kyle, I found Kenny roaming the halls again. I remembered you had an appointment with him today, and so I just figured I'd bring him straight here."

"Thank you very much, Stan." Kyle says; a wide smile coming onto his pale face. "I was wondering where he went off to" The redhead then looks over to the blonde before saying, "Kenny, just take a seat in the chair next to mine, and I'll be right there. I just need to have a quick chat with Stan here in the hall, and then we'll start our session."

The blonde quietly obliged, and the two males left for the hallway.

"Something wrong Kyle?" Stan questions as the redhead shuts the door to his office.

"No, no, everything's fine.' Kyle reassures. "It's just…..well, I wanted to know what you thought of the new patient, Butters." "He seemed fine." "Well...I guess what I'm trying to ask is...did he seem...like all the other patients here?"

The taller finally realized what the redhead meant, and took a short pause before answering. "...to be honest, no. He actually seemed to be the exact opposite of them."

"So it wasn't just me." Kyle says; sounding a bit relieved. "Good. For a minute there, I was a bit worried I'd be the only one who saw it."

"Saw what?"

"The fact that there's seemingly nothing wrong with him."

Stan raises an eyebrow in question. "What are you getting at, Kyle?"

The redhead then stays quiet for a few minutes before finally responding, "I hate to admit it, but...I have a strong feeling like there could have been huge a mix-up of some sort. I've been in this field for awhile now, and something about this doesn't sit right with me. Of course, none of my suspicions can be confirmed till the police fax over Butters more detailed chart. But until then, I'm keeping a very close eye on him. Oh, and would you mind telling me if you notice anything different or out of the ordinary in Butters' behavior?"

"Of course, dude." Stan reassures. "Just… promise me you won't do anything that'll get you into too much trouble, okay?"

"Well, seeing as how I look for trouble daily, that'll be pretty difficult. But for you, I'll try."

Kyle's sarcastic comment was then followed by two giving each other small smiles before going their separate ways; Stan heading back to see if Kevin had any trouble taking Butters to his room and Kyle going into his office for his session with Kenny.


	2. Group Therapy: Session One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I'm finally getting around updating this on here.
> 
> To be honest, it's an equal percentage of having too much work for school to write, general laziness, and a mixture of other things that have caused updates on this story (for both here and on fanfiction - where there are a few more chapters posted) to be slow. I should get on a normal schedule once school starts back up, but until then, I can't promise how frequent updates will be.
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy chapter two.

Darkness.

It was the first thing Butters saw when his eyes opened that next morning.

It actually took a moment for him to remember exactly where he was and why, but when he did, he let out a low sigh. Not only did the memory of his situation bring his mood down considerable, but the room itself was actually beginning to mess with him mentally. The lack of any type of windows in the room was beginning already beginning to mess with his sense of time, and the blonde had a nasty feeling that it wouldn't be long before his sense of time diminished completely.

The mere thought made Butters feel a strong sense of helplessness...but he knew it was something that simply couldn't be changed.

So, to get his mind off the topic, the blonde decides to just continue lying on his back, and gazing up aimlessly at the black space above him. Of course, as his eyes adjusted, Butters slowly began to see more and more of what was in the darkness, and soon, the grey ceiling became clear as day. He then lies there for what seems like millennia as he began to hone in on every single imperfection in the ceiling above him; such as some spots where the paint had began to crack or chip or areas where slight cracks had began to form. Eventually, Butters mind becomes eased from its earlier anxieties, and slowly, he was lulled into a light sleep.

The room became so quiet and content, in fact, that the sudden sound of the cell door being unlocked made the blonde shoot straight up into a sitting position in surprise.

"Good morning Butters." Stan greets as he swings the door to the blondes room open. 

Once Butters realizes it was only the dark-haired security guard, he calms down, and props himself up on one arm before using his free one to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning..." The blonde replies groggily. He then momentarily why Stan of all people would give him such a friendly greeting, seeing as how he was a convicted criminal in this facility, but was sidetracked when he too notice of a tray in the tallers hands. On it were a small serving of scrambled eggs, a two pieces slightly burnt looking toast, and a small Styrofoam cup of what Butters assumes is orange juice - as well a plastic spork to the side of the cup. The smell and sight of the food drew a noticeable rumble from Butters stomach at the sight of the food, and it occurred to him that he hadn't really eaten anything that previous day.

After a moment of silence, the blonde finally speaks up with a cautious sounding question. "Is…is that for me?"

"Of course." Stan reassures as he gives the other a small smile. "We're not monsters here, Butters. We serve all our patients here three square meals a day, and no one is of exception." 

"Oh." Butters mumbles out. More silence then fell between the two, and it was a good two minutes before the blonde broke it once he realizes something. "Wait...so do all inmates eat in their cells then?"

"Huh? No, there's a cafeteria." Stan explains. "It's just Institution regulation that we keep criminally insane patients isolated for a couple of days until it's determined they're not a danger to themselves or others." 

"I see..."

"Yeah, but it's just temporary; I promise." The taller reassures. Butters merely gives a nod of understanding back to the other before hopping out of bed. He then crosses over to the waiting security guard, and gingerly takes the tray from his him.

"Thanks." Butters says quietly.

"It's no problem." Stan replies. "Now, it will be another hour until the therapist who'll be handling your one-on-one therapy session arrives, so until then, you'll be waiting here. I'll be back just as soon as the doctor arrives, and will escort you directly to them. Is this all okay?"

The blonde then gives a simple nod as a reply, and when he does this, Stan gives a nod back before leaving without another word.

Soon after the taller left, Butters then heads back to the bed, and sits on its side before he turns his attention to the tray of food on his lap. Another deep growl comes from his stomach, and it encouraged him to dig in. He then grabbed the plastic spork, and wastes no time devouring the eggs. After they were gone, the blonde then periodically begins eating his toast as well as taking occasionally sips of the juice, and in just a short while, he had finished off the last of his breakfast.

He admitted it wasn't the best meal he'd ever had, but a part of his was just overwhelmingly thankful they even fed him at all; especially considering what he had been accused of doing.

Butters then puts the empty tray at the end of the bed, and quickly stands to pull the sheet over the pillow; sort of as his way of "making" the bed. Once this is done, the blonde then gets back on the bed, and sits crossed-legged in front of the tray as he waits for Stan's return. As he continued to sit there, time seemed to drag itself out, and occasionally, Butters would find himself absent mindedly fiddling with the tray in front of him out of boredom. Finally, after what felt like hours, the sound of the door being unlocked was heard once again, and in seconds, Stan was stepping into the room.

"Okay Butters, the therapist has arrived, and is ready for your session." Stan explains. "Just leave your tray from breakfast here, and the people who search you room for contraband will take care of it."

A sense of unease comes over the blonde at the knowledge of strangers poking around in his room while he was away, but after reminding himself that this technically more of a cell than a room and that he had nothing in it to hide, the feeling went away. 

The two then promptly made their way down the halls of the Institution, and soon, Butters found himself staring at the door he had entered yesterday when going to see Kyle. Confusion then comes over his face, but before he could ask any questions, the guard beside him spoke up. 

"This is where you'll be going for your one-on-one therapy sessions from now on." Stan explains. "The doctor is waiting for you inside."

Butters couldn't help but still feel slightly confused at this, but goes inside nonetheless. Inside, nothing about the room had changed, but only this time, a female with straight, cascading black hair who looked to be around Stan's age was sitting in the chair Kyle had been in that previous day.

And, unlike Kyle, the girls seems to take notice of the blondes presence almost immediately.

"Hello Butters." The women says with a warm smile as the other slowly walks into the room. "I'm Doctor Pattie Nelson - the one-one patient therapist here. Please, shut the door, and come have a seat next to me."

The blonde wasted no time obligating, and once he was seated, spoke up.

"Um, Miss… I guess I'm a bit confused." Butters says. "Isn't this Kyle's office? I-I just mean, this is the room I talked to him in the other day, so I assumed it was his..."

"Oh, that's only because this room is devoted solely for one-on-one sessions with patients." Pattie explains. "So, I guess in a way me and Kyle do share this room, but mostly, he can be found in group therapy room just across the hall."

"Oh...okay then. I guess that makes sense." Butters says. "Thanks for letting my know."

"Anytime." Pattie says warmly. "Now, let's begin, shall we?"

The raven-haired women then readies the pen in her hand, and during the next hour, asks Butters a multitude of questions. Of course, the things she asked weren't like the things the redhead had questioned him on the day before. No, these questions were covering more broad topics; such as: "How are you feeling?", "Have you had any outbursts of violence recently?", and things of that nature.

It was admittedly tedious, but the blonde figured it was better than answering question that would lead to him having another emotional breakdown.

"Alright Butters, that just about wraps up this session for today." Pattie stares as she finished jotting down the last thing Butters had told her; clicking her pen so the point was no longer out. "As of now, I don't detect any rational reason to start putting you on any medication. However, I do want to see you everyday for at least two weeks to just keep an eye on your mental state. But don't worry, after they pass, you'll be out on a more spread out schedule for sessions or just when you need someone to talk to."

"Oh...okay." Butters mumbles out. He was honestly a bit shocked to hear he didn't need to be put on medication, and despite this, decides it's best not to question the doctors verdict. "Thank you, ma'am."

Pattie just smiles at this. "No problem, Butters. You're no free to leave if you wish." The blonde then gives a slight nod of understanding at this, and stands before making his way toward the exit without another word.

"Hey." Stan casually says as Butters steps into the hall. The taller then crosses over, and takes Butters lightly by the arm before beginning to walk down the hall. A few minutes pass in silence, but about halfway back to the blonde's sell, the taller continues speaking. "So, how'd your one-on-one session with Pattie go?"

"It was fine." Butters answers. "Although...I am a bit confused." "Hm? About what?" "Well...it's nothing major." Butters reassures. "It's just...she actually said she saw no need for me to have medication at this time."

"Really?" Stan asks; his tone giving off slight surprise. Butters then confirms with a nod, and the other goes silent for a few moments. "Interesting. That certainly is a first for a new arrival here."

The blonde couldn't help but note a certain tone in Stan's voice when he says this, but before he could call the raven-haired man on it, they arrived back at his cell. The taller then unlocks it, and turns to look at the other.

"Here we are." Stan states. "You will be spending the majority of the day in here for holding. I'll be bringing your dinner by at about five-thirty, and after, will be taking you to your first group therapy session. Is this okay with you?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay then. Please step inside."

The shorter obliges, and once inside, heads right for the now tray-less cot. Behind him, he heard the door locking him in, but paid it no mind. Instead, he choose to sit on the edge of his cot, and lets his mind wander through random topics to pass the time. Mostly, the thing he thought about held no real significance, but there was one thought that seemed to attract nearly all of his attention. Why had Stan's tone changed once he mentioned Pattie hadn't put him on any medications? The question, while simple, actually managed to bring several related questions to mind. Did Stan perhaps know something he was missing? Was it taboo not to be put on medication during your first weeks at the Institute? Or did Stan just believe he actually needed drugs?

The thoughts continued to swirl around Butters brain, and as he tried to come up with rational answers, he inwardly admitted that what he was occupying his mind with was a bit unnecessary, pointless even. Although, the truth be told; when you have the knowledge that you're going to spend the better portion of your day in a dark, locked room with nothing to do but sleep or absent mindedly stare at the wall, any distraction to make the time go faster for yourself is welcome.

-Later-

"Alright Butters, it's time to go to group. You ready?"

Butters nods at this before quietly saying, "Yes I am, sir."

The blonde then slides off the bed, and once to his feel, and quickly crosses over to where Stan was waiting. The two then walk through the familiar path towards the therapy room, but when they arrive, they turn to the left at the intersection of the doors instead of the right, and end up in front of a set of double oak doors.

"This is the group therapy room." Stan explains. "You'll be spending two hours here every other day to talk out your inner feelings with other inmates, and after, be brought directly back to your room. Is this understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Then please, head inside."

The blonde then silently heads over to the double oak doors, and with a slight turn of the knob, heads through the white doorway.

Once inside, he saw that the room was substantially bigger than any he'd been in so far at the Institution.

It's walls were painted a dark forest green, and was accented with a plush looking dark brown carpet; giving the space a very natural, non-threatening feeling to it. As for its furniture, an assortment of chairs (some of which had a few patients already sitting in them) that were put into a U shape in the very middle of the room with one at its center - which is presumably where Kyle would be sitting during the session. And lastly, in the very left-hand corner, Kyle was sitting at a brown desk as he wrote away on a piece of paper in front of him.

And as the blonde took the scenery in, he had to admit that it was refreshing to see something this cheery in a building made mostly of blinding whites and depressing grays.

"Ah, Butters, there you are." Kyle says with a small smile once he looks up and spots the blonde entering the doorway. "I was wondering when you'd be brought here. Please, sit in any of the remaining empty seats, and relax. We're still waiting on one more person to join us, so it'll be just a few more minutes before we can start."

The blonde nods in understanding, and looks more in-detail at the selection of vacant chairs to choose from.

The first available seat he saw was at the left end of the "U" shape in-between a girl with silver-dyed hair and almost translucent-pale skin, and a boy with jet-black hair that that swooped down over his face to cover his left eye. A slight feeling of intimidation overcame Butters at the twos appearance, and he decides to survey his other options in hopes there might be one by itself. The only other vacant seat he sees, however, was in-between this boy with tangled blonde hair and, to his surprise, Kenny.

It only took the blonde a few seconds before deciding to go with the latter choice.

"Um…i-it's okay I sit here, right?" Butters asks the two a bit awkwardly once he approaches the shorter; not wanting to get on the bad side of his fellow patients on his mere second day. "I-I'm new, so I have no clue is someone has claim on this seat."

"N-No...it's fine." The boy with the tangled mess of blonde hair says with a slight stutter. Kenny, on the other hand, remains silent, so the blonde takes this as a go-ahead to sit down. "T-Thanks." Butters says; trying to keep his voice steady but his nerves shaking it. "It's no problem." The other says almost dissmisively. The three then sit there in silence before the shorter to Butters right speaks up. "So, y-you said you're new here, right? A-Are you that guy they brought in yesterday?"

"Yeah, that's me." The taller of the two replies. He then pauses slightly before politely extending his hand toward the other. "My name's Butters, by the way."

The other looked at the extend hand for several moments, as if assessing any possible dangers, before hesitantly reaching out and taking ahold of it. "I-I'm Tweek. I-It's nice to meet you, Butters."

The taller of the two smiles, and feels a bit of relief that at least one person in the room seemed to be friendly. Before anything else is said, Butters hears something that catches him by surprise.

"Hi Butters."

The small, whisper-like voice went almost unnoticed by him.

The blonde then looks around, but sees no one looking in his direction. That is, of course, until he suddenly meets Kenny's eyes; which seemed to be transfixed on him. Butters momentarily wondered if he could have been the one that had spoken to him earlier, but after several minutes pass in silence of the two just staring at each other, he dismisses it before looking forward once more. 

Butters swore he heard a soft, sad sigh from Kenny's direction when he did this, but figured it was simply his mind playing tricks on him again.

"Ah, Bradley, welcome." Kyle suddenly speaks up; getting Butters attention. "It's nice to have you here with us today."

The blonde then looked behind in curiosity, and at the door he had entered from earlier was a boy about his age with a head of curly, dirty-blonde hair. Like most of the other patients here, Butters noticed that he had dark circles around his eyes - whether it was from lack of sleep or due to something completely unrelated was still a mystery to the blonde.

"Please, take that open seat over there, and we can begin." Kyle says before taking a seat in the chair that was the center of the U shape.

Bradley did as he was told, and the whole time, his gaze was settled to the floor.

Butters briefly wondered if he was okay, but didn't have too long to think about it before the redheaded psychiatrist began talking again.

"Okay, now what we're all here, I'll be needing someone to start off our group sharing today." Kyle explains; readying the pen in his hand to start writing on the clipboard he'd settled on his lap. "I figured, since we have a new face joining our group; it'd be appropriate to begin with a little background on each other. That being said, would anyone like to volunteer to share their story with us?"

Kyle's words were met with anything but enthusiasm, but eventually, the girl's pale hand on the end went into the air.

"Thank you, Bloodrayne." Kyle says with a small smile. "Please, begin whenever you're ready."

"It's no problem." Bloodrayne reassures with a slight grin. "Anyway, I was sent here because my friend and family think I have some sort of delusion that I'm a vampire, when really, they're just the ones who refuse to believe the truth." She then pause for a few minutes before speaking once more. "As for when it all started, I guess that have to be about two years back; when I was still human. It was back when me and all my friends started getting into all the vampire-related shows on TV, and I just remember really wanting to become one…"

~~

"You sure you don't wanna come with us to the mall, Bloodrayne?"

"I am, Larry." Bloodrayne reassures her friend on the other line as she begins to file down her nails. "I'm just comfortable staying in today, and watching some horror movies. But I'll join you guys the next time, I promise." 

"'Kay then." Larry simply replies, his tone showing some obvious disappointment. "Have fun."

"I will." The silver haired girl says. "See ya tomorrow"

"See ya."

The two then hung up, and Bloodrayne turned all her attention to the images playing on the TV. The current show playing was a cheesy, old-timey vampire movie. The graphics weren't anything truly astonishing, but as she continued watching, Bloodrayne felt a longing deep within in. A dark, twisted desire that had been building for years; to become one of the blood-sucking immortals. Not to hurt anyone, mind you, but just to be dark and mysterious like the creatures were; to feel moderately interesting for once.

Of course, she knew it was a totally unrealistic dream.

With a heavy sigh, Bloodrayne then went on with filing her nails to an acceptable smoothness - keeping her attention on the TV as she did so with a certain adoring fondness one might expect from a young child.

Although...as she continued to do this; her subconscious took hold.

Without even realizing it, she lifted the file to her mouth, and began shaping two of her front-teeth into fine-tipped fangs; not even wincing once during the process.

It would be hours later when she discovered her work; accidentally biting down on her lip and seeing a slight train of blood coming from her mouth. She immediately went to a mirror, and upon seeing the sharpened front teeth, an initial sense of confusion hit her. However, it would be seconds later when a strong, euphoric happiness took it's place. True, she had no idea as to who had transformed her, but it hardly mattered.

After all, this had been what she dreamed of ever since second grade. Who wouldn't have been happy?

Without another minute of hesitation, the silver haired girl licked up the remaining blood on her lip before taking off into the night to celebrate her newfound immortality.

~~

"And ever since then, I've been a vampire." Bloodrayne concludes. "I'm still not entirely certain sure how I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror or how blood still came from my lip, but I've concluded it to just my body adjusting to turning from human to vampire."

"Yes, but Bloodrayne, could it be possible that maybe you were the one to have sharpened your own teeth into those points?" Kyle politely interjects. "After all, you did say you had a nail file in your hand."

Bloodrayne took a long pause, as if considering this notion, before speaking again. "I had thought of this at one point, but no, I'm positive that couldn't have been how it happened. I could feel I had become different."

"I see." Kyle says before jotting down a quick note. "Sorry for interrupting; please, feel free to continue."

Bloodrayne gives a slight nod, pausing a moment before continuing, "To be honest, there's not much left of my story to be told after that. After I discovered I was immortal, I embraced my new lifestyle right away. I slept all through the days, prowled in moonlight, and refused to eat or drink any human substances. Sadly...I couldn't seem to bring myself to actually drain a living thing of it's blood, and slowly, the lack of feeding began to take it's toll on my body. That's when my friends and family started getting concerned..."

~~

"Bloodrayne, please, listen to me! This mentality is destroying you! You need to go and get help before it's too late!"

"I've told you...I-I don't…need help..." Bloodrayne weakly explains to her concerned best friend.

Larry frowns at this, and gives a sad huff in reply. It had been a few weeks since his friend started acting like this, a "real" vampire. It was fun and games at first, seeing as how their group was collectively obsessed with the fanged creature of the night, but it was quickly replaced with concerned once her friends discovered Bloodrayne was going on weeks without eating or drinking. This refusal to consume even the tiniest morsel of food or water had caused her to drop weight at an alarming weight; so much so that her ribs had actually began to start showing through the skin on her sides. And, along with her physical state, her mental health also began to crumble, as her delusions were only strengthened by the lack of food and water.

Bloodrayne needed to get help soon, and Larry feared the worst if he couldn't break through to her.

"Hailey, please...you need to stop this." Larry begs; using Bloodrayne's real name to get across how serious this situation truly was. "You're parents are really getting worried about you, you know. The teachers at school are worried about you, our friends are worried about you, I'm worried about you! If not for yourself, then for the love of god, please get help for all the people that just want the best for you!"

"L-Larry…calm down. I-I'm a Vampire now…this is n-natural since I haven't drank any...any..." 

The silver-haired girl's stuttering explanation suddenly begins to trail off, and without warning, her world was sent into a strong spiral. A surge of searing white flooded Bloodrayne's vision, and shortly after, faded into blackness.

The next time she'd open her eyes; Bloodrayne would find herself in a hospital bed with multiple IV's injected into her as Doctors and nurses moved all around her.

~~

"A week after, the medical staff ran some tests to see if I was stable, and long story short, I ended up being sent here to treat my 'delusions' of vampirism." Bloodrayne concludes with a scoff. "I guess people just don't want to accept truth But it's fine, I should be let go once people realize their mistake."

Butters, who had been listening intently to the others story, was in a bit of shock.

There before him, a person that was around his own age, was completely convinced something false was true. The concept itself didn't get him worried, but…it got him thinking.

What if that's what was going on with him?

What if he really hadkilled his mom, and his brain was protecting him from a reality he didn't want to, or possibly even couldn't, face? That this sense of innocence was just a figment of his imagination? The mind was a complex, strange thing, and if it wanted to, the blonde figured, it could even do something as inconceivable as blocking out the memories of someone murdering the very person who had given them life.

Butters felt anxiety spike within him at the thought, but snaps himself out of it when he hears Kyle speaking.

"Alright, thank you for sharing Bloodrayne." Kyle says before giving his signature polite smile. He then turns his gaze to the rest of the group before continuing. "Now, would anyone else like to share today?" The redhead then waited in silence for several minutes, looking to each of the patients in hopes at least one more person would volunteer, but then sighs once he sees no results. "Very well. You all have the remaining two hours of this session to have free time while I go do some filing. I'll check back in with you all in an hour to see if anyone changed their minds about sharing, but in the meantime, remember that there are guards right outside. So don't do anything I wouldn't."

With that, Kyle leaves through the nearby door, and everyone breaks off.

Bloodrayne and the black-haired boy next to her go off to a dimly lit corner before talking quietly to each other. Bradley silently slinks over to the nearby window before taking a seat on the ledge. As for the remaining three, they all remain where they are seated.

Butters suddenly felt like he should at least try to socialize, seeing as how he was going to be here with these people for awhile.

"So...that was interesting." Butters says; turning to Kenny with a smile. "Bloodrayne's story, I mean. Hehe, I know it sounds silly, but I was wondering if she should actually suck people's blood with those fangs of hers. What do you think?"

The blue-eyed blonde just stared at the other, much like how he had yesterday when they had met, and after a minute of silence, stands. He then walks off to nearby corner, and leans against it before letting himself slowly slide down the floor. Meanwhile, the blonde watches the taller do this, and can't help but feel a bit anxious. Sure, from what little he knew about Kenny, this behavior was normal, but...he couldn't shake the feeling that, maybe, in some way, he had said something to offend him.

He decided to ask Tweek to get a clearer answer.

"Was it...was it something I said?" Butters meekly asks. "Did I upset him?"

"Who? K-Ken?" Tweek asks; looking up from the fixed spot he'd been staring at on the floor. "No, no, you're fine. H-He's always like that."

"Oh...okay. I figured as much, but I was just making sure." Butters then takes a short pause before asking, "Please don't think I'm being nosy by this, but...do you happen to know why? I-I'm just curious is all."

Tweek raises an eyebrow slightly at this, almost as if the concept of curiosity was somewhat foreign to him, and moves closer to the other before speaking. "Honestly...I-I did overhear Kyle talking about him to Stan one day when he was walking by my room. A-Apparently, he has this rare condition called Cotard Delusion, o-or something like that. It basically means he has himself c-convinced he had died, and is n-now a ghost roaming our world."

"So...that's why he doesn't talk to anyone? Because he thinks they can't see or hear him?" Butters asks; a sudden wave of sympathy for Kenny washing over him.

"Yeah." Tweek says. "W-Well, except for Kyle and Pattie, w-who have him convinced their m-mediums or something. B-But even then he normally doesn't speak to them u-unless they're having a one-on-one session."

"How sad." Butters says in genuine concern. "Do you know what caused him to be like this?"

"T-That's actually one thing I don't know." Tweek admits. "I imagine the only ones who know Kenny's story are his family, Pattie, and Kyle."

"Oh...alright then. I'll just let it go." Butters says. The blonde then suddenly feels Kenny's chilling stare from across the room, so to distract himself, he changed the subject. "So Tweek….it seems you know a lot about what goes around here."

"O-Oh, yeah, I do." Tweek reassures with a prideful smile. "I-I usually just stay in the background anyway, so I happen to o-overhear a lot of conversations."

"That's neat" Butters smile. He then took a short pause before asking, "Actually...if it's okay, would you mind telling about the others here? I-I just want to make sure to not accidentally insult someone. Don't wanna step on anyone's toes, ya know?"

"I understand. A-And sure, but you have to keep what I tell you secret."

Butters nods, and the messy-haired blonde went into explanation about the remaining people in the room he had no clue about.

The boy that was with Bloodrayne was named Pete, and was there to get treatment for Multiple Personality Disorder. The blonde admits to not knowing much past this, but found the other does have three confirmed alternate personalities - A man in his late twenties named Michael, a woman in her mid-twenties named Henrietta, and a Twelve year old kid named Firkle. Bradley, surprisingly enough, had actually been sent there on the same charges Butters had. According to what Tweek overheard, he had gone to some Christian Camp when he was ten after telling his parents he might have a romantic interesting for one of his same-sex classmates, and eight long years of attempted brainwashing later, finally snapped, and gruesomely murdered everyone in the area; counselors, campers, and even two bystanders included.

Butters was shocked at the news.

"He...he just killed everyone?"

"Yeah man, h-he's really dangerous when h-he's provoked." Tweek stutters out. "Usually h-he's kept in his cell like the others who aren't suited for group, b-but I guess Kyle finally okayed him for it this time. J-Just don't mention any type of religion around him, o-or it could get bloody."

"Don't need to tell me twice..." Butters mumbles. He then looks to the figure sitting in the window, and his mind can't even process the fact blood was on his hands. His face alone just looked so...sad. Broken, even, like the world has just kept kicking him down his whole life.

Like with Kenny, he felt a certain sympathy for Bradley.

The blonde then mentally reminds himself that, in a place like this, you could never judge a book by its cover. It was also shortly after this that it occurred to him that he'd yet to hear Tweek's own tale, and with admitted hesitation, he spoke up.

"Hey Tweek...you never mentioned why you're here." Butters points out. "Or do you not like talking about it?"

"H-Huh? Oh, no, I just forgot, I guess." Tweek says with a sheepish chuckle. The twitching blonde then took a moments pause before saying, "T-To be honest...I-I don't know why I'm here."

Butters nearly felt his heart stop. "You don't?"

"No." Tweek admits. "M-My parents just kinda sent me here after I told them about my b-boyfriend, Craig." The shorter then pauses before continuing, "I-I guess you can say it was to 'clear-up' my h-homosexuality, but beyond that, I'm totally at a loss for w-why I'm being kept here."

"That's awful." Butters says. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I am glad there's someone else who doesn't know why they're here. But...to be sent to a place like this all because of the person you love is wrong. I'm sorry you're parents are that close minded."

"A-Aw, they're not so bad." Tweek reassures. "They come and v-visit me on visitation days every once in awhile, and send me care packages on occasion. P-Plus, they're also paying rent on my apartment while I-I'm here so I'll still have a place to live when I'm released. They may be distant, but...I know they still love me." The other then takes another short pause before adding, "S-Speaking of families, a-are yours coming to visitation next week?"

"...my...my family?"

"Yeah, l-like your mom and dad and siblings." Tweek explains. "I-I just didn't know if they'll be visiting you s-so shortly after you arrived. I-If not, you can s-sit with me and Craig. I-I'm sure he won't mind the company."

Butters sit there in silence for several minutes.

It had never once crossed his mind that someone he knew would visit him while in the asylum. In all honesty, he had no knowledge of what happened to his father after he found out about his wife's tragic death, or if he even knew where his murdering son was. It was just one of those he just didn't want to think about, and as for the whole visitors issue, Butters was almost positive no one would bother coming to see scum like him.

Of course, he couldn't let Tweek know this. After all, hearing him talk about Bradley with such distain, he could only imagine how the other would speak of him if he'd ever learned then truth.

"...no….I don't think anyone will be showing up to see me." Butters replies. "But...thanks for saying I can sit with you and Craig. He sounds like a great guy."

"Oh, h-he is." Tweek gushes; seeming to forget any previous conversation. "Craig's protective, but a-at the same time, a total sweet-heart. H-He actually told me that the first thing he's gonna do for me once I get out of here i-is treat me to a nice dinner a-at my favorite restaurant. I-It's one of the things I'm really looking forward to, a-actually."

Butters smiles at the others gushing, but begins spacing out as the other continues.

It wasn't like he didn't wantto listen to Tweek talk, but...he just had a lot of questions about his father on his mind. So much so that he found focusing on anything rather difficult, and wound up missing over half of Tweek's spiel about Craig.

"Alright everyone, you're two hours for group therapy are over. Time to go back to your rooms."

The sound of Stan's voice seems to get everyone's attention, and without a seconds hesitation, every patient in the room stood up and headed toward the door where he and Kevin were waiting. Of course, Butters couldn't help but notice that the only ones who needed to be escorted back to their rooms were himself and Bradley. He thought it was most likely because of the fact they were there on court orders, and decided not waste time asking such an obviously answered question.

The shorter guard then takes Bradley's arm, and after a few minutes of leaving for the others room, Stan does the same.

"So, how was your first group therapy?" Stan casually asks as he leads Butters through the halls.

"It was good, I suppose." Butters answers softly. "Only one person spoke about why they were here, though. But that's okay. Kyle was actually nice enough to give us the rest of the two hours for free time. It let me bond with a fellow patient here - Tweek, I believe. He seems really nice."

"Sounds fun." Stan says; getting a small smile. "And yeah, Kyle's always doing things like that. I personally think that's why so many patients like him"

Butters couldn't help but note the fondness in Stan's tone when he spoke about the redheaded doctor, but before he could call him on it, they turned the corner into the red-squared hallway and, on the other side, saw a security guard. However...this person wasn't Kevin.

If anything, he was the exact opposite.

He was roughly about the height of Stan, give or take an inch, and had a brown head of hair that nearly matched his eyes. The uniform which he wore clung tightly to his plump frame, and the roundness of the others face seemed almost comically exaggerated due to his collared shirt being a few sizes too small for him.

"Hey Eric." Stan greets the man casually. "This is our newest patient, Leopold Butters Stotch. Butters, this is one of the night-shift security guards, Eric Cartman. He'll be one of the ones watching over you guys when me and Kevin go off-duty."

"I see." Butters says softly. He then turns his gaze to Eric before giving a short and arguably bland, "It's very nice to meet you, sir."

Eric, who seemed almost seemed in a state of surprise, snaps himself out of it before giving an impersonal seeming, "Likewise."

The larger male then hurries past, the look in his eyes hinting some sort of underlining distress, and accidentally bumps into the blondes shoulder as he did so. Butters then felt a strange sensation of déjà vu come over him, and...something in the back of his mind whispered that this wasn't new to him.

Like...he knew the other, and had gotten bumped into by him before.

"Huh...strange." Stan comments. "Eric's never been in that much of a hurry at the start of his shift before. I guess he's finally being forced to do that paperwork he was assigned three weeks ago." The taller the realizes he had gotten side-tracked, and quickly continues walking Butters back to his room. "Sorry about that. I have a tendency to distract myself with talking. Bad trait for a guard to have, I know, but I try not to do it that often."

"It's fine, I won't tell." The blonde mumbles; getting caught up in thought.

The two soon reach Butters' room, and Stan ushers him in before closing the door behind him. Of course, the shorter hardly seemed to notice. He was too busy focusing all his energy into trying to remember where he knew the other from. Even as he settled down in his bed for the evening, he didn't give up his task.

He knew he had the answer...but the memory containing it was just out of his grasp.

Eventually, Butters felt his eyes grow heavy, and soon after, finally gave into the call of sleep - his last minutes of consciousness being spent still trying to remember where on gods green earth he knew Eric from.

~Meanwhile~

"This is horrible!"

The yelled words seemed to echo off the walls of the empty room as Eric continued to pace back and forth on the white tiles.

"Why on earth is he here!?" Eric roars out. "How's that even possible?!" The chubby security guard then pauses a moment, taking into account the other hadn't seemed to recall who he was, but continues his paranoid rant after some more thought. "What if he gets his memory back while here?! What if he remembers what I tried to do?! I'd be fucked!!"

The brunette then keeps up his pacing back forth for several minutes, his thoughts racing more and more with each step he takes.

It was then that he remembered just how clueless Butters looked when he saw him in the hallway, despite the slight strain to recognize him in his eyes, and the knowledge was enough to get his furious pacing to slowly come to a stop as he thought.

"Maybe...I'm overthinking this". Eric muses; gladly following the direction on his newly rolling train of thought. "I mean...all I have to do is make sure nothing happens to jolt his memory. After all, HE'S the one in this place, not me. It'd be his word against mine, an officer of the law! In fact...maybe I don't have to tackle this alone." A smirk then forms in Eric's face, and without hesitation, began setting his plan in motion - looking through a nearby filing cabinet before pulling out a manila envelope. He then proceeded to slip the document under his arm before venturing into the hallway. 

Of course...what Eric didn't realize was that, just out of view, was a certain sea-blue eye'd blonde; listening quietly to every word the other spoke with silent intent.


End file.
